Silver and Ebony
by Earendilion
Summary: Glorfindel looks back on his part in the courtship of Elrond and Celebrían.


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They stand beneath the bows of two great trees, he, tall and proud, though his eyes are soft; she, beautiful and pure, silver lashes brushing modestly against her cheeks. Their hands are joined. Celeborn has just taken hers and laid them in his, and now places his hands on their heads in blessing. As he finishes, she raises her eyes to those of her lover, and they glow as they gaze at one another. They are smiling. A tremendous applause, mingled with cheering, erupts from the crowd. Their lord is finally wed, and, hopefully, his reign will soon be secured. But they also see that, politics aside, he is happy, happier than he has been in many yen.

The couple passes through the crowd, greeting friends and acquaintances, his gentle hand at the small of her back. I, who know them well, see that their gazes often slip to the other's, rather than to the one to whom they are speaking.

"And so our young charge moves on before us," a soft and slightly sad voice says behind me, and I make an affirmative noise in my throat.

"Look at him, Erestor," I murmur, watching my lord and greatest friend look down on his bride with tender affection. "Not a trace of woe to be found on his face. I have never seen him so before."

"Aye, my friend. It brings me unspeakable happiness to see him smile again."

I nod, smiling myself. Our mutual friend bears many burdens and many sorrows, and is too often chained by them, which is why we were so delighted when Celeborn's daughter began to draw him above and beyond his anguish and into something far greater.

Erestor claps me once on the shoulder and moves forward to greet the newlyweds. I can do nothing but observe. I can remember the first time I met my lord – yet no more than an elfling, by my standards – when he had newly come under the care of our beloved king. He was put under my instruction, for Gil-galad worried for his well being. He told me, in confidence, the lad's story, which even I found to be tragic, and revealed to me that the adolescent had recently lost his twin and only remaining relative to a choice of mortality – and was devastated by it.

"I fear for his fëa, Glorfindel," he told me. "Watch over him. Bring him back to us."

And so I had, not only as tutor and trainer to the boy, but also as friend. It had taken some time to achieve that status – the child was not easily disposed towards friendliness or openness, and I could not blame him. Life had been cruel to him, but I knew that the bud needed only a friendly hand and a loving heart to bloom, and I had been right (as I usually was, of course).

And so my young charge had grown to be my liege, then my lord. After the loss of Gil-galad, I watched him plunge once more into darkness, though in that instance he seemed to realize what was happening and fought it. He rose to the occasion and led his people well – exceedingly well, in fact – but there was still a deep sorrow that plagued him.

I first suspected Celebrían of some feminine witchery when I found them together in the library, laughing until tears ran down their faces and clutching at their sides. I had to struggle to keep my jaw from dropping open. I had not seen Elrond laugh so in… I could not even remember.

"And then," he said, wiping his eyes and choking on his words, "and then Glorfindel… of course he does not want her to find out that it was he who had stolen her… eh, _linens_, however accidentally, so he panics, and throws them in the river!"

A gale of laughter followed, Elrond collapsing onto the table and Celebrían roaring in her chair. People were coming from every corner of the library to stare. I myself was rather indignant. How dare he recount such a story! It had been an… an unfortunate misunderstanding, on my part, and the memories were not fond. The elleth in question had not been amused with the situation. I believed I still had the marks.

After the library incident, they began to take walks together through the gardens, and would talk of many things both great and small. It seemed that he had begun to confide in her, and many an evening I would find them together in his study, poring over some decree or ancient tome. A learned and wise lady, Celebrían was nothing if not a valuable confidant regarding his duties as lord. I was both pleased and a little rankled that I myself was the instigator of such companionship, since it had sprung from a retelling of my own regrettable mishap, but decided to let it lie as long as their friendship was no longer at my expense.

It was not to be, however. I, being his wise and seasoned mentor and now his advisor and councilor, was the first Elrond confided in when he sought Celebrían's hand in courtship.

"You must speak with Celeborn first," I told him (and it was a very good piece of advise, too).

"I know," he said, waving his hand agitatedly at me as though this was a given. "_How_, though?"

"State your honorable – I should hope – intentions, and assure him that you respect his authority as father and Celebrían's honor."

He sat down heavily and put his face in his hands. "Curse the day when the One decided to create potential father-in-laws."

"If all goes well, you, too, shall be one," I pointed out, thinking myself wise.

He sent me a rather venomous look that _clearly_ said he thought me a bumbling idiot and that I was thinking much too far ahead.

Of course all went well, in the end. Celeborn blessed their courtship whole-heartedly, but directed him to Celebrían for full consent. She gave it.

At this point, I was deciding whether to begin worrying or rejoicing. What if – Eru help us – they were _married?_ On the other hand, he was looking happier and healthier with each passing day, and she was an exceptionally pleasant elleth. She did not scorn the workings of the masculine mind or manly activities, as many of her ilk did, and I had many a decent conversation with her concerning the construction and usage of varying kinds of blades. On the other hand, if they were _married…._

As his courtship of her grew more fervent, it seemed that Elrond found more and more of his time taken up by his lordly duties, and so also found it necessary to converse with her literarily when he could not spend time with her during the day. He took to sending her daily letters, often accompanied by a rose or some other token of his affections, and this I thought very clever and romantic – until I was designated as the official letter-carrier.

To preserve my dignity, I did not deliver the letters in person and in _public_, but decided to leave them in her private chambers. Anonymous was always more romantic. Unfortunately, this required sneaking in and out of her chambers without detection (particularly by her father – _that_ would have been awkward), and I was suddenly quite appreciative of the athletic and deductive skills Eru had granted me. I came to the conclusion, however, that Eru has a rather sick sense of humor when I was climbing out of her window one day and Erestor spotted me, called out to me, and caused me to start so badly that I fell out of the tree. It was most embarrassing, particularly for a renowned Elf-lord of old. To make things worse, a tree branch had ripped my leggings wide open in a rather uncomfortable place. Getting back to my rooms was not an easy task, and Erestor was more interested in gloating then helping.

After many weeks of this, I finally felt that I had had enough. Delivering letters and sneaking in and out of bedrooms was quite below me, much less my noteworthy status in the House, and I decided that the romantic nature of the letters had expired. Elrond, of course, tried to convince me that I was the only one to whom he would entrust such a duty and would not hear of halting his written advances. He said everyone else he could think of would probably open the letter and read it for themselves. I suggested Erestor, but the mere idea of Erestor bearing love letters was out of the question. My lord's trust made me feel slightly better for a time, because all he said was most certainly true (holding the letters up to the light to read through the parchment did not count as opening).

Celebrían and I had always been on good terms, if not good friends, and I judged that, in my plight and in Elrond's obstinacy, it was time to take our relationship to a higher level. So I wrote a letter of my own.

_Dearest Celebrían,_

_In his fervent admiration of you, I have noticed that my lord has taken to sending you pleasant letters nearly every day. I have noticed this because I have been the one to deliver them to your chambers._

_Celebrían, you must see how damaging this is to my pride. I am martial commander of this House, and it is rather demeaning to be sent about as a mere page boy, though I do not deny that the messages delivered are of the highest importance. I respect and esteem your courtship – truly I do! – but surely it should not come at such a price. I would suggest several courses of action to you. Firstly, perhaps you may speak to your honorable suitor about finding another messenger. I have already done this, but he may be more willing to lend his ear to you. Secondly, if the previous method has no effect, you must either marry the poor Elf and relieve him of his wooing duties, or tell him you have no interest in love letters and break off the relationship completely. Quite simple paths, really._

_Please take into consideration what I have told you here, in confidence, and take action quickly before I am humiliated afresh. _

_Your Faithful Servant,_

_Glorfindel_

I placed my missive beside Elrond's latest and waited eagerly for a response. It came, to follow tradition, in the form of a letter.

_Dearest, most amusing, most mistreated Glorfindel,_

Was she mocking me?

_I appreciate your confidence and frankness, my friend, and cannot thank you enough for the healthy laugh I indulged in when I had the pleasure of reading your letter._

She was mocking me.

_I understand your predicament and sympathize. I am truly grateful for your sacrifices in aiding our courtship. It is due to your noble services that it is still alive and well._

Not only was she mocking me, but she was also laughing at me. That little…

_I am afraid to tell you, however, that I cannot take any of the courses prescribed to me by your distinguished intellect, though I admire your martial approach to the problem. If my suitor deems it necessary to use you as messenger, I will have to agree with him, for I trust his judgment wholly. I advise you to do the same. I myself quite enjoy the letters, as well, and am not about to ask him to halt his writings, marry me, or break off his courtship. Time shall tell, and I would urge you to be patient._

Yes. She was most certainly laughing at me.

_I thank you again for your honesty. Elrond also thanks you – he found your letter quite amusing._

I choked on my wine.

_I assure you once again that we appreciate your gracious sacrifices towards our cause – _

Cause? What cause?!

_and look forward to your next delivery._

_Yours in Affectionate Jest,_

_Celebrían_

I could hear her laughter in my ears as though the page rang with it.

As the courtship lengthened, so it grew in gravity and intimacy. With these newfound qualities came the unavoidable side effect of complete honesty: argument.

Both Elrond and Celebrían being very stubborn and opinionated, it came as no surprise to me that their first real quarrel evolved into quite the shouting match. I never knew what it was about, but most certainly felt the aftereffects.

Elrond was distraught. Immediately after she stormed from his study, completely disregarding me as I stood outside the door, I glanced inside to see him fall into an armchair before the fire, head in his hands. He refused my company with (excusably) sharp words when I entered, and I decided to let him be for a time. When I went to Celebrían afterwards to see if I could begin to resolve the problem from the other side, I stopped short at her door and listened to the sobbing coming from within. I had not the heart – nor, perhaps, the courage – to knock.

They were apart for days afterwards, and I thought that perhaps they had broken off the courtship. But they made no announcement, and I doubted whether anyone but Erestor, Celebrían's parents, and myself knew of the argument.

Mealtimes were the most painful because it was the one time of the day in which they were forced to see each other. They sat several seats apart, but it did not seem to be enough. Elrond stabbed at his food with so much vehemence that I was tempted to remind him that it was already dead, and Celebrían barely ate at all. When she would rise early and excuse herself, Elrond's jaw would tighten, though he refused to watch her walk from the hall.

My lord grew irritable and irrational both in business and in personal matters, and it became near impossible to have a civil conversation with him. I knew he was not sleeping well because shadows appeared on his suddenly very pale features, and he would massage his temples often – a telltale sign those who knew him had come to recognize.

Celebrían was not often seen – a highly unusual occurrence in itself as she was known to be quite active and social. She vanished from the gardens and her voice was not to be heard in the Hall of Fire when the most sweet-tongued were called on to sing. Her parents told me she was spending much of her time in her quarters and rarely came out, even for them.

It didn't take long for me to take matters into my own hands, finally deciding they had suffered and held their grudges long enough.

I started by asking Celebrían to dine privately with me one night – making it clear that my intentions were in nothing more than friendship – and expressed my observation that she may prefer dining away from the masses for one night. She agreed with a grateful and relieved smile. I felt only slightly guilty in deceiving her, and convinced myself that they would have to reconcile at some point and I was only speeding the process.

My next move was to ask Elrond to meet with me one evening – coincidentally the same evening I was dining with Celebrían, though I didn't tell him that – and he consented with a gruff noise in his throat. I told him it was concerning a recent council with a delegation from Mirkwood and knew he would remember because it was business-related.

I felt fairly justified in being rather tense the night of my dual commitment. Erestor wished me luck, saying he would find a lovely place beneath the willow trees to bury me after they killed me and that after one had died once it couldn't be so horrible the second time. I ordered him out of the room.

Celebrían arrived first and I engaged her in polite conversation for several minutes, though I was secretly waiting on tenterhooks for the door to open again. When it did, I realized for the first time the true folly of what I was doing.

With the blind bravery I was often praised for, I strode forward, seized Elrond's arm, and practically dragged him to the seat across from Celebrían. They glared daggers at each other first, then at me. I was both larger and stronger than both of them, so I was not quite sure why I cowered under their gazes, but decided that perhaps giving them a common enemy would cause them to reconcile.

There was a long, painful silence which reminded me of the calm before a storm, and then the shouting broke out. First they shouted at me, then they shouted at each other for shouting at me, and when I tried to explain myself, they shouted alternately at each other and me. I could only watch and wonder what I would do if the argument became violent.

And suddenly, to my consternation, it was over, and she was sobbing in his arms as he stroked her hair soothingly, murmuring softly in her ear. I was sent a look over her shoulder that said he would deal with me later, and I left the room quickly.

Later that evening, I was subjected to a long tirade about why I should mind my own business and not take advantage of friends' trust and lure them into unpleasant situations under false pretenses. I turned to go, thoroughly chastised, but stopped when he said my name quietly.

"Glorfindel?"

"My lord?"

"Thank you."

Over the next few months, I was forced to accept that the courtship was no longer merely a courtship, it was not going to break, and would probably grow into something even more beautiful at any given second. They were in love.

I saw it in the tenderness of his hands as he touched her cheek when he thought no one was watching and when he took her in his arms to dance with her in the Hall. I saw it in the way he would sometimes pause and smile in his work, apparently at nothing. I saw it in the gentleness of her gaze as she listened to him speak or laid a hand on his arm when he was frustrated. I saw it in their very existence. They were molded to each other, suiting the other like a glove, and were one in their thoughts and actions. Thoughts of the future and the changes to come haunted my mind, but I could not help but be happy.

My worst fears and most joyful expectations were confirmed when I happened upon them in the forest that night. I was grateful I had found pleasure in the trees rather than the ground that evening, and was able to look down on them in their moonlit clearing without detection.

He was holding her in his arms, one hand first running through her hair, then caressing her cheek. He was murmuring quietly to her, and though I could not catch the words, I noted that his voice was raw and intimate.

She was holding his face in her hands, her luminous gaze searching his, brushing black locks away from his temples as she replied to his gentle words. He sighed heavily and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. He whispered one final question there, and when she responded, he drew her swiftly into a passionate embrace.

It was time for me to go. Glancing one last time at entwined silver and ebony below me, I returned to the House.

And here I was now, witnessing their union. Had I expected this when I had first found them together and laughing at me in the library? Certainly not. Was it something completely expected and natural now? Absolutely.

I follow Erestor forward to greet the couple. There is only joy dancing in their eyes as they turn to me and embrace me in turn, and I beam at them and offer my wholehearted blessing and desire for their happiness. When Elrond is occupied briefly with Lindir, I take Celebrían aside.

"Now, I must warn you that the care and upkeep of Elf-lords is not light task," I say sternly. "He must be fed daily – or perhaps every other day. He is a soldier and doesn't need much. And… let's see, what else… his clothes will need to be washed at least every yen, and be sure he bathes. The wretch is quite terrified of soap."

She laughs her ringing, silver laugh. "I will do my best, Glorfindel," she says, still chuckling.

I take her face in my hands and look at her, far more serious than before. "You cannot know how grateful I am to you," I murmur. "For what you have done to and for him."

She smiles softly and touches my cheek, and I embrace her again.

"Did I forget to mention that I expect at least a dozen nieces and nephews?" I say lightheartedly as I guide her back to her beloved. "Six for me, six for Erestor."

"Six whats?" Elrond asks as he takes her in his arms again.

"Elflings, dear," Celebrían says, her eyes gentling at the thought. Elrond's own eyes spark.

"Yes, well, nieces and nephews are not nearly as important as grandchildren," Celeborn says, clapping his son-in-law on the back. He leans forward to whisper something in his ear, and Elrond chokes.

Erestor and I step aside as the bride and groom prepare to dance. When they are finished, many more couples fill the grassy dance floor. My fellow advisor and I, however, retreat to the wine.

"And so we await the next chapter of our lives," Erestor says, pouring me my first goblet in an unusually polite gesture.

"A much more interesting one, by the looks of it," I reply, watching Elrond and Celebrían slip away from the many guests and into the House.

Erestor grunts his concurrence.

"But the married life is only for a chosen few," I say genially. "And most certainly not for us. To bachelors."

"To bachelors," Erestor agrees with a laugh, and we drain our goblets.

I smile into the excellent vintage.


End file.
